Be Mine, Or Die
by Infinity-DoubleRainbowz
Summary: It's a fight. All an endless fight. And guess what? It only takes one heart to end this meaningless brawl, but, apparently, no one involved has a heart. You can find one easily, though.


Rosie Rascal, Amy Rose, sat on the windowsill of her dollhouse-pink home, scrubbing the window with a soiled rag. "Hmm . . . I wonder if Sonic is home?" she asked herself. After wiping down the whole window with a spotted spray bottle of a green chemical, Amy slid off the sill, adjusted her red-and-white halter dress, and made her way to the mahogany dining room table, complete with a red tablecloth, bamboo placemats, and a vase of magnificent flowers.

There was an eager knock on Sonic's tall door and he stood to answer it. "Amy—?" As he slammed the door hesitantly, Amy somehow slipped through the crack. "Heehee. Not fast enough, Sonic!"

There was a low growl in Sonic's throat. "Oh! Guess I'm hungry!" Amy exclaimed and skipped to Sonic's black, shining-new fridge. "Hey, stop! That's _my_ food!" he spat and pried Amy's hands off of the freezer door.

The growling sound reappeared again. "But, Sonic, I'm hungry! Won't you acknowledge that? Please?" Amy stared at Sonic, acting crestfallen. "That was my growl, Idiot!" Sonic barked.

"Mmhmm—sure, sure. You just don't want to waste food on me, a light eater. Humph!" She turned her back on Sonic. There was an awkward silence, then a long, exhausted sigh from Sonic. "Okay, what would you like? Pick anything."

"Hmm . . . Could we bake a cake together?" Amy asked.

"Uhm, yeah, sure." Sonic agreed quickly, watching Amy open random cabinets to find the sugar and chocolate chips. "Uh, Sonic, you can go lay down while I make the cake, okay?" Sonic uncertainly turned around and headed to the couch. Soon, he drifted off into a deep sleep. . . .

"Hn?" Sonic awoke in a thick, hazy environment. He moaned with fatigue and crept to the kitchen to find a determined Amy setting a fork on a plate with pink-frosted cake. _Clink._ Sonic's ears twitched. "Why, look who's finally awake!" she mused and handed him the plate. "Amy, this is my porcelain dining set! Where'd you find it?" he snarled. "It's for chili dog occasions only!" He stared sorrowfully down at the crumb-covered white plate with blue roses decorating the center in a ring. Tails had made for him on his thirteenth birthday . . . .

"_Open it, Sonic!" Tails cheered, holding up a present with a big, blue bow on its solid green wrapping paper. Tearing it open, Sonic recovered a stack of porcelain dishes, swathed in plastic wrap. "Whoa. These are real beauties, Tails!"_

_The youthful kitsune nodded. "Yep! Made 'em myself. Now that you're thirteen, you need responsibilities." Sonic patted Tails head. "How thoughtful. Thanks, little bro!"_

Scooping the entire slice into his mouth, Sonic put the remaining cake on a paper plate and shoved it in Amy's gloved hands. "Go." he ordered. "B-B-But, Sonic!" Amy protested. "Go. _Now_." Amy glared at him innocently. "You _know_ I was just trying to help. _Humph!_ But when you're hungry, and all you find are vegetables in the fridge, don't come cryin' to—"

"Oh. Shut! UP!" Amy looked up at Sonic, trembling uncontrollably. "I-I-I'm sorry, Sonic, h-honey! I-I-I-I just don't w-w-want you to . . . _expire_!"

"Go away, you fool. This is _my_ time now."

The door creaked open. "I'm sorry, I am!" With a click, the door closed faster than it had been slammed before.

"Look, hun, I'm sure Big Blue likes you, but he's afraid to show it!" A sexy-looking bat comforted Amy from inside a dimly-lit bar. "_Big Blue_?" Amy repeated with disgust. "Is that what you call _my_ darling Sonic?"

"Quite frankly, yes." Rouge rolled her eyes. "Now, that doesn't mean I like him. Nor does it mean I _don't_ like him, ya know?" Amy humphed. "I know you like him, Rouge. It's just that, well, it's obvious he likes _me_."

"WHAT!" Rouge stood up from her side of the green velvet booth, slamming her hands down on the table. Heads jerked around to spot Amy and Rouge tightly gripping each other's necks with fury.

"He's _mine_!" Amy hissed and bitch-slapped Rouge, hard.

"No, you fucker! He's _mine_!" Rouge snarled back and raked her claws across Amy's forehead, cutting through Rouge's gloves like tacks in paper.

Amy snatched a fork with long, sharp prongs from her plate—chicken chunks in gravy with creamed corn—and flung it at Rouge's eye, missing, but jabbing her snout and staying put. "RAAAH! You BITCH!" Rouge, harshly pricking Amy's cheek with her steak knife, paid no heed the fork, prongs blazing, in her nose, focusing on the brutality of injuring Amy. "You shouldn't—wear a—halter top, bitch." Rouge struggled, watching Amy gasp for air like a fish out of water.

"You—whore—you always—wanted me out of—the picture! Just so—you could be—with Sonic!" Rouge's black-and-pink suit slipped down a bit, showing her breasts. More people turned to look. One drunk at the bar shouted, "Take it off, honey! Then there'll be three in tha party!" he spoke, rambling in a slur.

Everyone else seemed to be frozen, at least until a rough-looking bartender stepped forward and whacked Rouge and Amy on the side of their necks sharply. "Enough-a yer fighting, drama queens." he muttered hoarsely and tossed Amy outside by her collar; Rouge by her wings.

"Unh . . ." Rouge sat up, noticing that Amy was unconscious. "Nobody _cares_!" she yelled and delivered a vicious barrage of blows to Amy's face. "_Sp._" She spit on Amy and clomped away angrily.


End file.
